The envelope was thin and plain.

Too plain for the kind of storm it was supposed to carry.

It arrived mid-morning, no fanfare or warning in place.

Just a soft knock on Clarissa’s apartment door and a courier’s voice saying, “Delivery for Mr. Nathan Hart.”

Nathan looked up from his phone, frowning. Clarissa sauntered over in a silk robe, barely paying attention.

“Who sends paper anymore?” she muttered, plucking the envelope from the courier’s hand before Nathan could get to it.

The moment she saw the content, her smirk dropped.

Elena.

She passed it to Nathan without a word.

He opened it slowly, peeling back the flap like he already...